At present, it seems Jiang Zhen would be the one whose career progresses the fastest under her guidance. Compared to the others who are still green and inexperienced, he’s already mature enough to require little further polishing.
Sheng Quan sipped her lemon water, watching Jiang Zhen on set—his every move effortlessly captivating. Unable to resist, she turned to ask the driver behind her, "Brother Jiang, if you fought him, who would win?"
Jiang Lu, usually silent, glanced at Jiang Zhen and answered, "I would." After a pause, he added, "But he looks better in a fight."
Sheng Quan wasn’t too surprised. After all, Jiang Zhen was a martial arts actor. If every move of his were lethally effective, his co-stars would be in trouble.
As for Jiang Lu, she’d only seen him fight once, but that single encounter had left a deep impression. His movements were minimal, yet each one carried deadly precision.
Though she’d already revealed her wealth, Sheng Quan hadn’t encountered any kidnapping attempts—partly because the country maintained tight security measures, and partly because Jiang Lu had likely preemptively eliminated such risks.
Sheng Quan loved exploring, and whenever she did, Jiang Lu would quietly follow, meticulously planning her route to avoid any potential dangers.
To put it mildly: it was an overwhelming sense of security.
After six months of hard work, the widely recognized wealthy CEO Sheng Quan had finally saved up enough to consider hiring personal bodyguards.
These past months had been indulgent—she’d enjoyed the best treatment wherever she went—but saving money? Well, that was another story.
Most of her investments followed long-term development strategies, meaning profits would take time. And she always aimed for perfection, often dipping into her personal savings to fund new ventures.
The road had been winding, but the destination was rewarding. After half a year of effort, Sheng Quan finally entered her profit phase—though the money kept flowing out just as fast (film crews were expensive). Still, she was no longer penniless.
With sincerity, Sheng Quan laid out her thoughts to Jiang Lu:
"I don’t just want to hire you long-term as my bodyguard—I also want to bring you on as a consultant for the new security company I’m opening. I know you have connections with many retired soldiers, like those brothers who helped out last time."
"This company will serve me and the artists under Starlight Entertainment. If we expand, we might also take on other public figures. Here’s the draft contract outlining the terms. You can review it first."
As soon as she finished, her assistant promptly handed over three contracts: one for Jiang Lu’s personal employment, one for the consultant role, and the last for standard security personnel.
Surprise flickered in Jiang Lu’s eyes. He wasn’t shocked by Sheng Quan’s offer to hire him privately—she’d mentioned it before.
Frankly, Sheng Quan was an ideal employer. She never ordered him around for trivial tasks, always included him at meals, and was cheerful, emotionally steady, and free of bad habits—even a bit of a health enthusiast.
She called him "Brother Jiang," invited him to watch shows together, thanked him with a smile, gave him red envelopes, shared fruit with him, and sometimes, when she spotted beautiful flowers or trees by the roadside, she’d excitedly pull out her phone to take pictures.
In those moments, Jiang Lu would instinctively slow the car.
Somehow, seeing Sheng Quan so happy while taking photos eased his own mood.
Since leaving the military, Jiang Lu had learned one lesson well: "self-preservation." He never meddled in his employers’ private affairs—those who did usually ended up regretting it.
But Sheng Quan was different.
She wasn’t just a good employer; she was a good person.
So during the "Lin Aike Crisis," when Sheng Quan erupted in fury for the first time, Jiang Lu broke his own rules for the first time too.
He’d already prepared to follow her, but he hadn’t expected her to place even more trust in him than he’d anticipated.
It was obvious this security company would become Sheng Quan’s strongest layer of personal protection.
As a consultant, bringing in his former comrades meant the company’s foundation would essentially be built through him. Such responsibility could only come from deep trust.
When Jiang Lu looked at her in astonishment, Sheng Quan gave him an encouraging smile. "Do your best."
"After the incident with Aike, when we all had supper together, I started thinking about this. I trust your judgment completely. As for benefits—health insurance, meal allowances, transportation subsidies, year-end bonuses, pensions—we’ll cover everything."
Last time?
Jiang Lu immediately understood why Sheng Quan wanted him to recruit. After leaving the police station that day, she must have overheard their conversation—how retired soldiers like them struggled to find suitable work, caught between unrealistic expectations and limited opportunities.
She’d listened, remembered, and was now offering a solution.
Even though, to her, he was just a driver.
The man accustomed to silence couldn’t quite articulate the emotions swirling in his chest, managing only to force out a single sentence:
"Miss Sheng, thank you."
"You’re welcome. Someone as capable as you deserves to shine."
Sheng Quan patted Jiang Lu’s shoulder—they were familiar enough now for such casual gestures.
Though she did have to raise her arm a bit higher than usual, which was slightly tiring.
Establishing a security company was inevitable. While Sheng Quan knew her pockets weren’t exactly overflowing (compared to the image she projected), to others, she appeared exceedingly wealthy.
And she was absolutely certain she’d grow even richer in the future.
Leaving aside the steadily increasing funds from the system, just the way she was diversifying her investments under such financial backing made becoming the wealthiest person a very real possibility.
—Sheng Quan had complete confidence in her future affluence.
If she could claw her way up from rock bottom in her past life, there was no reason she couldn’t soar now with ample funds, loyal subordinates, and a roster of talented individuals.
Thus, having a fully controlled security system was essential.
Unbeknownst to her, as her thoughts wandered, Jiang Lu silently lowered his stance just enough to make it easier for her arm to reach his shoulder.
When Jiang Lu submitted his resignation, the hotel management wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t the first time a guest had been so impressed with their staff that they offered private employment.
In fact, they took pride in it—proof of their exceptional service.
His colleagues, however, were both envious and shocked.
"Several guests tried to hire you before, but you always refused, saying you’d never accept private employment. What changed?"
Jiang Lu had little to pack, just a single backpack slung over his shoulder. His sharp, cold features stood out even more in his streamlined attire.
"Miss Sheng is different."
"How? Don’t you remember what happened to Ke? He got dragged into his boss’s brawl and ended up in prison for years. Ours is a young man’s game—you can’t work for her forever."
Jiang Lu was already pushing the door open when he paused at those words.
"Exactly."
Then he strode forward, long legs carrying him away without another glance.
His colleagues blinked, slow to process. "Damn, he really plans to work for Miss Sheng his whole life?"
That day, Jiang Lu made countless calls.
—"Instructor, you serious? A job this good? I’m in! Absolutely in!"
—"Brother Jiang, I trust you. Packing my bags now."
—"You’re sure they want female bodyguards? Alright, booking my ticket. If this pans out, drinks are on me."
On the day Sheng Quan gave him leave, Jiang Lu reached out to many—some he hadn’t spoken to in years. Yet nearly all agreed immediately after hearing the company’s terms.
Finally, he made one last call.
The voice on the other end erupted into a stream of complaints the moment he finished speaking:
"Disappear after discharge, then pop up out of nowhere asking me to be some security consultant—not even a ‘how’ve you been?’"
"You ghost everyone, even me. How’s the injury? Still hurt when it rains? Nightmares?"
The mention of Jiang Lu’s reason for calling only fueled the older man’s grumbling:
"Stubborn as ever. A bodyguard? You were top of the elite—how’d you fall this far?"
"Hezi’s death wasn’t your fault. He died for his country. In that situation, saving him was impossible. You surviving was a miracle, understand?"
Jiang Lu gazed at the horizon. "Yeah, I know."
"No more nightmares. I’m busy now—my employer loves to travel. I’ve seen so many places with her, met so many people. She gave me the day off, so I called."
It was the most he’d spoken in years, like a recovered patient reporting progress to his doctor:
"The injury doesn’t flare up much in the rain anymore. My employer insists on regular check-ups for her team—she took me even before I officially joined. Still in treatment. She booked me a therapist, but I tried once and quit. Old habits—can’t let my guard down with a stranger."
The voice on the line fell silent, listening as Jiang Lu recounted the mundane details of his half-year—how well he slept now, how his employer once gifted him flowers, thinking he liked them. How beautiful that bouquet had been.
Jiang Lu spoke at length, unprompted.
The man on the other end listened, patient.
Finally, he said, "When you left, I asked if you truly wanted to go. You said yes."
"But now, I don’t need to ask if you’ve truly accepted being a bodyguard."
His voice carried the weight of a long-held burden finally released—a sigh of relief.
"Jiang Lu, I'm so happy."
"As for being a security consultant or something like that, I think I'll pass. I'm already getting on in years."
"If there's a chance, though, I'd like to meet your employer. The fact that you're even trying to recruit me for her—she must be a wonderful person."
After a pause, the division commander suddenly remembered: "By the way, you're a consultant too, right? What's your salary?"
Jiang Lu mentioned a figure, along with the benefits.
Silence from the other end.
Then—
"You know what? I suddenly feel like it’s never too late to strive for more. Being a consultant at my age would actually be quite impressive."
"Send me the address. I’ll go meet our employer right away."
